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Red Is The Heart
By St Margarets

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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 423
Summary: "In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you." Harry begins to understand the truth of this statement as he learns valuable lessons in love, friendship, and choices during his sixth year. A fluffy H/G tale of adventure. A sequel to the "Wallpaper" trilogy. (Read that first.)


Hitcount: Story Total: 109340; Chapter Total: 6741







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Chapter Twelve: Into The New Year

"How did Malfoy Apparate into Hogwarts?" Nott rasped as he hobbled up a moving staircase. Harry and Ron matched their steps to his, as they slowly made their way to Dumbledore's office.

"He didn't - the elves carried him along."

"How do you know house-elves can do that?"

"We've been studying them all year - for Care of Magical Creatures," Ron replied.

Theodore Nott stopped in astonishment. "You've been doing house-elves?" He shook his head. "We're doing Flobberworms."

Harry exchanged glances with Ron; if the circumstances weren't so grave, he would have laughed.

The circumstances were right for the portraits to be laughing when they entered Dumbledore's office. In a rare show of frivolity, former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts were raising their glasses in Armando Dippet's portrait.

When Phineas Nigellus spied them, he moved to his own frame and began in a snide voice, "Two Gryffindors and a Slytherin walk into a pub . . ."

"Not him," Theodore Nott moaned as he sank into a chair. "He's in our common room."

Harry never imagined that he would feel sorry for the Slytherins, but Snape and Phineas would be a strong dose to take each and every day.

The other portraits went silent when Snape arrived, staggering under the weight of a cobblestone. When he set it on the floor Harry realized that he had wrenched it from the corridor floor, bubble and all.

This unusual detail did not escape Phineas. "Ah, Professor Snape - branching out to manual labor. Not quite the Slytherin thing to do is it? They say working by the sweat of one's brow is noble." He examined his nails. "Not that I would know, of course."

"Where's the Headmaster?" Snape growled.

"Spreading some Christmas cheer," Phineas replied. "He's to return within the hour. I'm sure he will be delighted with your gift, Severus."

"It's not a gift," Snape ground out. "Hogwarts has been infiltrated. Please alert Professor Dumbledore."

Dilys Derwent spoke up. "I can reach him from my other portrait."

"Hogwart's has been invaded by slime?" Phineas asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Thinking of Draco Malfoy, Harry silently agreed that truer words had never been spoken.

"In a manner of speaking," Snape said dryly.

They lapsed into silence and stared at the gelatinous substance on the stone. It looked neither sinister nor dangerous, just . . . gross.

With a small whish, Professor Dumbledore entered with Fawkes. He immediately went to the stone and examined the bubble closely. He took out his wand and said a few words under his breath. Nothing happened.

"What's your guess, Severus?"

"It's a secretion of some sort - from a beast or a plant." Snape looked puzzled. "That's no potion."

Dumbledore sniffed. "Did you notice? It smells somewhat like . . ."

"Mimosa," Snape finished for him.

The Headmaster nodded and swirled his wand. The stone rose into the air and then vanished. "I put an Imperturbable Charm on it and moved it to the dungeon next to yours. We will continue our examination at a later time."

He looked at Theodore Nott and his face softened. "Mr. Nott, you have been injured. Madam Pomfrey will take you to the hospital wing."

Theodore Nott opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it and nodded. Harry felt sorry for him since he wouldn't know what was being said or decided. He had been in that boat last year, and it had backfired on Dumbledore - on all of them.

Once Nott left, the questioning began with Harry and Ron telling the entire story.

"But why were you in the corridor in the first place?" Snape asked when they finished.

"Norbert! He's ill," Ron exclaimed, striking his forehead with his hand. "We forgot all about his potion!"

Snape looked sour at the mention of Norbert.

"So that's where they came in," Dumbledore said softly. "With Norbert stricken, that section wasn't being guarded. House-elves can Apparate with someone, but not at a great distance. They must take it in stages." He thought for a moment. "What was Mr. Malfoy wearing?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Clothes weren't a detail they usually bothered with.

"Um-something with fur around the collar," Harry hazarded.

"Boots," Ron said. "Tall Leather boots. He kind of looked like a mad, dark-side Father Christmas, if you know what I mean."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled but he answered soberly, "We'll search the grounds, to see where security was breached. And we can deliver Norbert his medicine, can't we Professor Snape?"

Snape was not overjoyed at this directive.

"I shouldn't worry that Draco Malfoy knows the priorities and inner workings of the Death Eaters," Dumbledore reassured Ron and Harry. "From all of our accounts, he has been in school until Monday of this week. What we don't know is if he was acting on his own accord or if he was directed."

Then his eyes narrowed and anger surfaced in his voice. "This is twice Voldemort has sent underage wizards on hazardous, yet strategically disadvantageous missions."

"Professor," Harry blurted, "can we tell Theodore Nott what we know?"

"You don't know anything!" Snape snarled before Dumbledore had a chance to reply. "That's the way to keep it, Potter."

Looking into Snape's cold eyes, Harry almost suffocated on his own resentment. This was something he would not let go. He turned away from Snape and addressed Dumbledore, "Can somebody talk to him about this - please?" Harry looked at Ron for support. "It's important for him to know. He has a lot at stake in this and . . ." How could he explain that he didn't want Theodore Nott to repeat his mistakes from last year?

To Harry's intense relief, Dumbledore listened. "You're right, of course. I shall speak to Mr. Nott this evening." Then he stood up and said briskly, "Now Professor Snape, let's visit a sick dragon, shall we?"

*

"What's mimosa?" Ron asked Hermione the minute they were back in the common room.

The girls were waiting by the fire, having changed out of their dress robes.

"A flower that grows in the tropics. It's really strong smelling." Hermione replied as Ron dropped down beside her. "Why?"

They told their tale again. Harry felt Ginny shiver at Malfoy's threat to wipe out the Weasley family. "I wonder which one of us they'll go after first?" she asked, exchanging glances with Ron.

Ron's sudden look of fear took Harry by surprise. This was something Ron had never discussed with him.

"That's just inflated talk from a Malfoy," Hermione said in a disdainful voice. "If it took six house-elves just to get that little ferret into Hogwarts, how are they ever going to gather enough elves to do any real damage here? And your brothers are all of age and very capable."

Ron's shoulders dropped at Hermione's common sense. A house-elf invasion or Voldemort stalking each Weasley did seem a bit far-fetched.

"Do you think they gave Norbert those Mackled Malaclaws to eat?" Harry asked.

"That seems a bit humane for a Death Eater, don't you think?" Ginny answered. "Why not just leave poison?"

"Because if the dragon is sick all day - from natural causes - no one is suspicious." Hermione speculated. " There are no searches for clues - no one's guard is up."

Ron hunched forward and asked slowly, "Who tipped off Malfoy for the best time to get Nott alone? Who knew when the feast ended?"

Hermione sighed. "You think there was help from one of the Hogwarts house-elves don't you?"

"Maybe." Ron looked at her over his shoulder. "I hope not."

"Are you thinking it was Happy?" Hermione demanded.

"He is related to the Goyle house-elves," Ron replied.

"Yes." She sounded tired. Harry thought what a disillusionment it would be for Hermione if they found proof that one of her beloved elves turned out to be on the wrong side.

*

Perhaps Professor McGonagall wanted to keep their minds off of things, or perhaps she made the shrewd guess that this particular group of Gryffindors shouldn't be left without chaperones, because from Boxing Day onward, she kept them busy.

"I thought these were the holidays," Ron grumbled as he hefted a bag of Dragon O's on to his shoulder. Harry and Hermione followed along the snowy path toward Norbert with pails of dragon grooming items and three brooms.

"Oh, I volunteered us," Hermione said and then faltered when she saw Ron's scowl. "It was either doing this or cataloguing the new books in the library." She sent a look of appeal to Harry. "I thought you two would rather be outside - and on brooms."

"It's ok," Harry said. He really didn't care since he couldn't be with Ginny anyway. And it was a beautiful winter's day to be outside: clear and windless.

When Ron didn't add any words of protest, Hermione continued with her reasoning, "Besides, we can learn a bit more about dragons this way. They're really very interesting."

"So are house-elves - and they feed themselves," Ron retorted without heat. "And they stay inside."

It was so cold, the snow crackled beneath their feet.

Hermione laughed. "Ron Weasley, staunch defender of house-elves."

Ron ignored the irony and continued. "House-elves polish things - why do we have to polish the dragons?"

"Because they are all different breeds and they can't groom each other properly like they do in the wild," Hermione said. "Don't you listen to Charlie?"

Ron shot her a look, which plainly answered that question.

"At least we're not stuck studying for O.W.L.s like Ginny," Harry said, as he again mourned the fact that he couldn't seem to find any way to be alone with her. Between McGonagall and two Prefects as best friends, they were well supervised.

"Yeah or stuck in the dungeons with Snape like Theodore Nott," Ron added as they reached Norbert's post.

.

"I'd like to know what they're finding out about that bubble of resin." Hermione muttered.

"It's one of Lockhart's hair care products gone wrong," Ron declared. "Mark my words."

"Dragon polish could also fit that description," Harry said, opening a tin of wax, which smelled like . . . lilacs.

"Norbert, you are going to be the most handsome dragon at Hogwarts," Ron remarked, spilling the Dragon O's on the ground. They were blood red and the size of tires. Norbert delicately speared one with his tongue and held it in his mouth for a moment, his eyes closed blissfully. "A connoisseur." Ron observed. "What do you reckon is in them?"

After H-E.P. Harry didn't want to know the contents of anything having to do with magical beasts. Now that Norbert was happily distracted with his treats, they mounted their brooms and started polishing.

As far as chores went, this one was quite pleasant. Norbert threw off so much heat that even on a frigid December day, they stayed comfortable. His scales felt like warm leather and took on a soft sheen when polished. It reminded Harry of waxing an enormous black car. They were just finishing the points on the dragon's back when he spotted Ginny walking out of the castle. Giving Norbert a final affectionate pat, he flew to meet her.

"Madam Pince threw us out because a group of Ravenclaws are helping her in the library." She took a deep breath of clean, cold air. "I'm tired of studying."

"Look what I found in the broom cupboard," Harry said.

"My goodness, it's a broom," Ginny said in mock surprise.

"Yes, oddly enough, they use the broom cupboards at Hogwarts to store brooms."

"More's the pity," she said, shaking her head.

"Want to ride with me? No Bludgers to watch for, no Quaffles to throw around."

"Won't that be a bit boring - having no distractions?" she asked, as she climbed in front of him. The racing broom was not built for two and they were wedged tightly together.

"Um . . . I don't think distractions are going to be a problem at all," he answered in a strained voice.

"You smell nice - like lilacs."

"That is the very masculine smell of dragon polish."

She giggled - and then shrieked - as they went straight up into the blue sky with little warning. Harry held her tightly around the waist and used his other hand to steer. They skimmed over the Forbidden Forest, turned in a tight curve, and dipped by each dragon stationed at the four corners of Hogwarts. Suddenly the world was an uncomplicated one of white snow, blue sky and the red of Ginny's hair.

The rings on the Pitch glittered like gold. He wove through all three at high speed, with barely a hand span of space to spare on either side of them. Finally, he slowed down and meandered over the frozen lake, where he let the Firebolt drift into a lazy circle, steering with his knees. He wanted both hands free . . .

The sun was sending streaks of red, pink, violet and gold over the Forbidden Forest when Ginny sighed and said, "That was the least boring broom ride I've ever been on."

He sighed back. "That was the best broom ride I've ever been on."

They walked slowly back to the castle, not wanting their time together to end. They stopped just outside the door for one last kiss. Her eyes glowed warmly brown in the dusky light. Flying is beautiful, Harry thought, and so is she . . .

*

They stole away for several more broom rides in between Ginny's study schedule and McGonagall's make-work projects. Many students returned before the official end of the holidays, fearing an attack on the Hogwarts Express. McGonagall found work for them too.

Ron ended up with Madam Hooch, organizing and sorting fifty years of Quidditch supplies. He was finding all sorts of interesting things. "You should have seen the uniforms the Hufflepuff's used to wear - they must have looked like giant lemon sherbet candies."

Hermione was helping the Ravenclaws in the library, having the time of her life - until the last day of the break. Harry was waiting alone by the fire in the common room when Hermione entered, a dazed expression on her face.

"What?" he asked.

She rubbed her forehead and sat down. "Terry Boot just asked me out - to sit with him at the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match."

His heart sank. Ron was not going to take this well. "Um, what did you say?"

She spread her hands helplessly. "I didn't know what to say. I mean, why would he ask me out?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe he likes you and thinks you're pretty and wants to spend some time with you."

She frowned. "I don't see how that can be - I mean there are loads of pretty girls in Ravenclaw."

"Yes," Harry said, thinking about Cho and Padma Patil. "But there aren't any girls in Ravenclaw who look like you."

She bit her lip, doubt written all over her face.

"There are all types of pretty," he continued. "Why can't you be the kind of pretty Terry Boot likes?"

She clasped her hands. "I don't know. I mean - I was always the smart one - with the teeth - not the pretty one. It makes me feel - self-conscious."

"Would you feel the same way if someone else - not Terry Boot - thought you were attractive?" Harry asked carefully, hoping there was a chance for Ron.

"I don't know," Hermione said, a question in her eyes. "I suppose it would depend on who he was."

Harry practically had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from saying Ron's name.

Hermione sat in thoughtful silence and then said in a decisive voice, "Well, I'm going to accept. It will be interesting. Terry and Michael and Anthony all know loads about Quidditch. And it's not like one date makes a relationship or anything. It will be a good experience."

"Hermione - just remember Terry Boot might have different - um - expectations - than you. Maybe you might want to make it clear you just want to go as friends," Harry said, thinking he could have used this advice last year.

She cocked her head. "Yes, that's a good idea. That's what I'll tell him." Then she laughed. "I never pictured you as the type to give out relationship advice."

He laughed and shook his head. "That's all I have and it was painfully won."

*

That evening Harry had another Apparition lesson. For the first time he Disapparated from one building and Apparated into another. He also had another destination point to find, with Hestia Jones, a member of the Order, in charge of moving the third Chocolate Frog card. He repeatedly traversed a triangular route from Lupin to Tonks to Hestia Jones until he had reached the farthest goal they had set for him.

Professor Lupin was pleased. "You're increasing your distance and your accuracy, Harry," he said handing him a butterbeer. The two of them were sitting on rickety chairs in a small circle of light, the small pile of Chocolate Frogs at their feet. Harry thought they were in the same warehouse where he had his first lesson but he couldn't be sure.

"Yeah, it doesn't seem so . . . " Harry searched for the right word. "Unnatural. I mean, I don't have to think about it so much."

"That's a good sign." Lupin took a swig of his butterbeer and leaned back in the squeaky chair so it balanced on two legs.

"Whoops!" Tonks Apparated inches from Lupin's head, startling him and upsetting his balance. Tonks had the presence of mind to grab the chair before he fell backward. Harry pulled Lupin forward by the arm and together they righted him. "How's that for pin-point accuracy?" Tonks said cheerfully, her hands still on Lupin's shoulders. "If Remus had been sitting in his chair properly, I could have made my graceful entrance."

Lupin only smiled. "I'm just glad you didn't try the lap drop."

Tonks laughed and staggered into the empty chair next to Lupin. "Right. That broke the chair and you were talking funny for a week."

Lupin winced in remembrance and handed her a butter beer. When Tonks crossed her legs toward Lupin, Harry noticed her trainers for the first time. They were bright red high-tops with rubber soles at least four inches thick.

Tonks noticed the direction of his gaze. "Aren't these brilliant? Christmas present from Remus. Of course I can't walk in them properly - not that I mind. I'm willing to suffer for beauty."

"Why do I have to suffer for your beauty when you fall into me?" Lupin inquired.

She waved that away. "You like to catch me - makes you feel useful." She grinned at him and moved closer, her shoulder touching his. Then she addressed Harry. "Men like that - to feel useful."

Before Harry could reply to this, she continued, "You're coming along remarkably well, Harry. It must be from that other work you're doing with Professor Dumbledore. What is the charm again?"

"The Chrysalis Charm."

"Oh, yes." She nodded, suddenly serious. "I remember reading about it - the incantation is quite profound. What is it?"

"Amor Fati."

"Love of fate," Tonks repeated, gazing at him steadily. "How do you feel about that?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know how he felt about it, because he didn't understand it. And he was afraid to know in some ways. "I don't know what it means - really."

He looked hopefully at Lupin.

Lupin sighed and put his butterbeer on the floor. "Well, Harry let's start with a definition of fate. What do you think it is?"

"Um, what happens to you?" Then he remembered what Bill had said. "Like everyone's fate is death."

"That's true," Lupin conceded. "But then that's rather a silly incantation - Love of Death."

Harry breathed a little easier. That was what he had been afraid of.

"It's also everyone's fate to live," Lupin continued. "So perhaps this phrase is highlighting that as well."

"Love of Life," Harry murmured. That seemed simple enough.

"All of life," Lupin emphasized. "The joys and the suffering too."

Tonks was listening with a grave, almost sad expression.

"But you can't love suffering," Harry protested. Was he supposed to love those detentions he had with Umbridge last year? Or his time spent with the Dursleys?

"No," Lupin said wearily, staring into the darkness. "But suffering is part of life - and you can either look at it unblinkingly - or you can deny it." Then he held Harry's gaze. "But if you do deny it - then you are running away from life - not loving it."

Lupin's words, delivered in his patient, calm voice, lingered in their quiet circle.

Harry looked at the lined face of his former professor. Here was someone who had suffered so much - whose suffering was as inexorable as the path of the moon - talking about loving his life. All his friends from Hogwarts were gone. It was unfathomable to Harry how he could bear it . . .

Then Tonks put her head on his shoulder and gently enfolded Lupin's hand in both of hers. It was a womanly gesture, sympathetic and sweet - and it moved Harry almost to tears. For suddenly he was fiercely glad for Lupin - that life, which had been so cruel in the past - had now given him a different answer. . .

Lupin grazed the top of her hair with his chin, and closed his eyes.

Looking away, Harry focused on the Chocolate Frogs and thought of the cards Ginny had made for him. Life's sweetest gifts, he thought, his heart impossibly full.

The silence was broken when Lupin cleared his throat and said, "That's what love of fate means to me, Harry."

Harry nodded. "I understand." And he did.

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